


life's too short to run it like a race.

by j2mslittlebitch



Series: blindsided [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drunk Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Possessive Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j2mslittlebitch/pseuds/j2mslittlebitch
Summary: “I didn’tbiteyou,” Derek replied as he found himself drawn in again, “but I could if you asked me nicely enough?”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: blindsided [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140407
Comments: 5
Kudos: 193





	life's too short to run it like a race.

He was all he could smell, ever since he had saved his life, Stiles, the magic user was all he could smell. It was like his scent was surrounding Derek everywhere he turned, he wasn’t even at work, Deaton had made him take some time off, he had been shot too after all. Not to the degree Derek had, but Stiles was human, well human enough and didn’t heal like a werewolf.   
  
It didn’t work.  
  
Even now, four days after the attack with Derek at home fully healed, it was if Stiles had been in his house, in his _bed_. Derek knew it was impossible, he had a state of the art security system and Stiles didn’t even _know_ where he lived to break into his house and crawl in his bed. It frustrated Derek, he hadn’t needed or wanted anyone in a long time, he’d become used to being by himself with the exception of his small pack who he kept at arm's length, for their own safety, he told himself.  
  
It was dark when Derek decided to leave the house, he was dressed in grey sweatpants and a white tee shirt, earbuds tight in his ears with classic rock playing loudly to block out the noise of the city. He jogged through the streets, lights shining and cars buzzing passed. He jogged through the tight streets and crowds, a myriad of different scents filling his senses, the sweet scent of coffee, nicotine and vanilla, _Stiles_ scent was still over powering and dizzying. _Goddamn it_ , he snarled quietly, speeding up, pushing himself harder and harder until the streets cleared of people and traffic, buildings thinned out and the air started to become fresher but still that scent haunted him.  
  
“Scott, what are you doing? Get back in here, someone will see you.” His voice, god now he was hearing him. Derek almost skidded to a stop, trying to identify the direction the voice was coming from. It was easy to figure it out, there was a small bar down the road slightly and there he was, out on the doorstep, wrestling wildly with Scott McCall, another member of their small team. Derek wasn’t even aware they socialized outside of work hours and suddenly he found himself irrefutably jealous. Stiles was drunk or at least tipsy, Derek could see that from here. Both the men were hanging off each other, laughing loudly as they re-entered the bar.  
  
Derek was desperate to follow them, he wanted to wrap himself around Stiles and scent him, mark him as his. McCall was a werewolf too and it irked Derek that the other werewolf had himself draped over Stiles. He felt his wolf stir, his eyes bleed red and he had to fight to stay in control, to turn away from the bar and walk away. He didn’t though, he wrestled the wolf down and when he was sure he was in control, he walked across the street and into the bar. He pulled his earbuds out and pocketed them and suddenly the bar was loud, the jukebox playing _Highway to Hell_ in the corner with people dancing on the dance floor, drinking in the booths surrounding the dance floor.  
  
His eyes zeroed in one Stiles, he was sitting at the bar with Scott and the dark haired techy, Allison on one side and the other techy, the pretty redhead, Lydia plastered against his other side and they were all laughing. Derek stood awkwardly in the doorway, staring at Stiles who turned as if he could feel Derek’s eyes on him. The mage smiled widely. “Hey Derek, hey guys look it’s _Derek_.” Stiles stood up and stumbled over to him and threw an arm around his shoulders, “Hey Derek, wanna join us for a beer or four.” Stiles leaned up and close enough to Derek’s ear that he could feel the hot dampness of his breath against the shell of his ear and he whisper shouted, “They do the _special_ beer.”  
  
Derek found himself dragged to the bar and pushed into one of the stools, he saw Lydia slide over and allow Stiles to sit next to Derek with a knowing look in the mage’s direction. They talked over him and around him, laughing as the bartender dropped a beer in front of him and Stiles winked sloppily at him, Derek could smell the herbs in the brew as he took a sip. He sat stiffly between Stiles and Lydia until Stiles slapped him on the back and leaned close again to shout over the music, “Relax big guy.”  
  
And he found himself relaxing, he drank the first beer and second and was on his third when Stiles and his friends stood up to dance. Derek shook his head and nursed his beer as he watched them falling over each other and grinding against each other as a new song started up. His beer was empty and the bartender handed him another, he was breathing through his mouth trying to avoid that scent that was trying to persuade him to stand and walk over to Stiles, to allow the other man to rub up against him while he danced. By the time he was done with this fourth beer, his control slipped and when Stiles approached him and grabbed his hand to pull him onto the dance floor, he went.  
  
Derek didn’t dance but he swayed to the music while Stiles swayed and draped himself over Derek’s chest and shoulders. Derek tried hard to resist but he couldn’t, he just _couldn’t_. He dropped his nose into the crook of Stiles neck and took a deep breath before he dragged his nose and teeth along the younger man’s throat. Stiles went still, his hands fisted in the front of Derek’s shirt before he dropped his hand down to Derek’s to curl his long fingers around Derek’s wrist and he found himself dragged off the dance floor and out the door into the darkness of the street. Stiles eyes were wide, his heart beating too fast and his sweet scent now tainted by lust. “Did you - did you just _bite_ me?”  
  
“I didn’t _bite_ you,” Derek replied as he found himself drawn in again, “but I could if you asked me nicely enough?”  
  
“Oh my god,” Stiles squawked, his cheeks flushed from arousal, the alcohol or the sudden chill of the night air on his hot skin. “Derek, what are you saying?”  
  
Derek walked into him, walking him backwards until Stiles’ back hit the cold brick wall. He dropped his head again and growled deep in his chest as Stiles tilted his head to the side to bare his throat, he was sure his eyes were red but he couldn’t help it, he nosed his way along Stiles throat, his tattooed collarbone and back up along the shell of his ear. Stiles hands were forever moving, gripping at Derek’s shirt, his biceps, his hips, his hair and Derek craved it, craved his _touch_. “I’m saying that ever since you saved my life, your scent _haunts_ me, it's always there. In my house, in my _bed_ , everywhere. I don’t know what you did to me but I can’t get you out of my head.”  
  
Stiles whimpered at his confession and his hands settled in Derek’s hair as he ravished the mage’s neck, rubbing his nose, his lips and his teeth along the taut flesh of his throat and collarbone. The needy sounds Stiles was making sunk deep into Derek’s soul and he was sure he was going to do something that would get them both arrested when the door slammed open and Scott yelled out, “Yo, Stilinski, it's your shout.”  
  
Derek launched backwards, Stiles hands sliding from his hair, both of them breathing hard and fast. Stiles eyes were blown wide, glowing silver and Derek thought it was probably one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. If it wasn’t for the fact that Stiles darted under his arms and back into Scott’s line of sight, Derek would have pressed into him again but instead he let them go and when they were safely back through the door, he pressed his earbuds back in again and started his music again using his phone and he turned to head home, Stiles scent thicker in his nostrils than it ever was before.  
  
  
Derek woke up the next morning with a headache, a hangover. It had been years since he’d had a hangover, the last time was when he’d gotten drunk with Laura before she moved to Washington. He groaned into his pillow as he rolled over to try and hide his eyes from the light. The peace only lasted so long before he heard Erica throw his front door open and screech, “Wakey wakey.”  
  
“Fuck off.” The words were muffled by the pillow but she still heard them if her cackle was anything to go by. He rolled over anyway and reached for his phone on his side table. The first thing he noticed was that it was midday, Derek never slept past seven, even on his days off. The second he noticed was multiple unread messages. He opened the thread and scrolled to the top message.  
  
**[From Stilinski]**  
[10.39pm]  
whee did u goooo?  
  
[10.46pm]  
I wanna makeout more  
  
[10.47pm]  
deRek  
  
[10.48pm]  
Sourowlf  
  
[10.50pm]  
Lyds said u makred me  
Does taht mean im urs now  
  
[10.56pm]  
I wont admit it fi yu ask  
But id be okk with that.  
  
Derek’s heart was in his throat, his memory wasn’t fuzzy, he could remember running into Stiles and his friends at the bar, he could remember Stiles dragging him outside, he could remember Stiles his baring his throat to Derek. Derek turned his head and groaned into his pillow, this time for a whole different reason. He locked his phone and sat up, he was still dressed in his sweats although his chest was bare now. He could hear Erica in the kitchen, it sounded like she was cooking and he was completely okay with that.  
  
He met her in the kitchen and gratefully accepted the coffee. She was cooking, pancakes by the looks of it and Derek all but whimpered in thanks. Erica shoved at his chest as he took a first mouthful of coffee, “Get out of my way while I cook.”  
  
Derek did as he was told, moving around the bench to sit on the stools along his bench. He drank his coffee in silence for a minute before he spoke, “I did something last night.”  
  
Erica froze and swung around, her eyes wide and flashing beta gold in panic, “Do we need to hide a body?”  
  
“What?” Derek asked, confused. “God no. I found Stiles.”  
  
“The kid you’re obsessed with?” she asked as she turned back to the pancake batter.  
  
“He is not a kid and I’m not obsessed.” Derek took another sip of coffee. “But yes, that one. I may have drank a little too much and projected my intentions.”  
  
“What intentions?” she wasn’t looking at him too busy pouring the batter into the sizzling pan.  
  
Derek shrugged, scowling into his coffee. “Stop being dense, you know what I mean. I marked him, I scented him.”  
  
Erica looked at him then, pity in her eyes. “He’s not a wolf, he won’t know the significance of it.”  
  
“He’s not a wolf but he has a werewolf friend, he was bitten though,” Derek shrugged a shoulder and finished off his coffee as Erica flipped the pancakes.  
  
“Don’t panic, sweet cheeks.” Erica smiled over her shoulder at him, “if he realises what you did, that’s half the fight over, if he doesn’t crisis averted. Shit he might not even remember if he was drunk.”  
  
“He sent me text messages about it, all he had to do is read them.” He unlocked his phone when it buzzed again and his heart skipped a beat to see another text from Stiles.  
  
**[From Stilinski]**  
[12.07pm]  
I want to apologize for my drunken texts  
and then die in a hole.  
  
Derek sighed loudly and slid his phone over the bench towards Erica who leaned over it and read the text thread. She put down the spatula and picked up phone, cackling again. She was out of his reach before he even tried to grab it as her fingers moved swiftly over the screen. Once she was satisfied, she dropped the phone back on the bench within Derek’s reach again. He dreaded picking it up to see what she’s typed but he opened the text thread and looked anyway.  
  
**[To Stilinski]**  
[12.10pm]  
Don’t die in a hole,  
I’d miss you.  
  
Okay, Derek admitted as he put his phone down again, that wasn’t so bad. His phone buzzed again but he didn’t want to look at it so he concentrated on the pancakes Erica sat in front of him. “If I wasn’t scared of you and you weren’t in love with Boyd, I’d marry you for these pancakes.”  
  
Erica snorted a laugh, “You don’t have to marry me for them, sweet cheeks, I’ll make them for you for free.”  
  
  
  
**[From Stilinski]**  
[12.12pm]  
Careful, your nice side is showing.  
  
**[To Stilinski]**  
[12.14pm]  
I don’t have a nice side.

**Author's Note:**

> I did see a few people ask for answers about the first part of this work,  
> as you can see, this fic did not contain any but they are coming. I have  
> started (almost finished) a longer fic that contains all the answers one  
> might want. I'm still looking for a beta though, if anyone is interested,  
> otherwise enjoy, kudos and comment what _you'd_ like to see  
> from this 'verse :)  
> <3


End file.
